


Team

by theoraclespecialist



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:02:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10156892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoraclespecialist/pseuds/theoraclespecialist
Summary: Prompt: could you do one were they are both best friends and madly in love with each other but completely oblivious to the others feelings so the rest of the team helps them get their shit together?





	

The dryness spread inside his mouth like spilled milk. Across the pitch, the athletic coach shouted instructions at the boys. As he ran toward the cone, Christian was turning the corner and smirked at him when they crossed paths. That’s when Dele emerged from behind, slowing down to jog with him.

“Can’t handle the cold, can you, Dier?” He laughed devilishly. “Or did you just have a heavy breakfast?”

Eric panted, as he ran back around. “It’s too early in the morning for your chatter,”

“Is it?” Dele turned and jogged backwards, his face gleaming against the emerging sunlight. “When is the best time, then? When you’re not stopping short of breath?”

Eric did not feel particularly energetic in the morning, but he mustered up enough heat to flip Dele on the head. Dele snorted, “Watch out, Dier. Your moves are getting weak,”

“I remember the days it was so peaceful without you,”

“Oh Dier, you’ve never been a good Liar,”

Even though Eric had heard this rhyme countless times, Dele seemed awed at this unexpected trickery of words. His jaw dropped and his mouth twisted into a self-congratulatory smile. “Aren’t I the genius?” he said, before he trotted forward in his natural pace.

Eric had to be thankful that Dele chose to dart away at that moment because he felt himself getting awfully close to slipping into yet another pool of wonder for Dele. This happened whenever Eric chose to let his mind fixate on certain features and mannerisms of Dele, when he no longer viewed him as a teammate or a friend but as a majestic masterpiece at which he could stare in amazement. Eric knew that his line of thinking was not only petty, wrong and somewhat immature but it did not bode well for the longevity of their friendship if Eric could not still his heart in certain situations.  

He liked girls. All sorts of girls. Not boys. Never boys. Not boys with short, curly hair with dodgy fades. Not boys with juvenile laughs that ring through the entire room. Not boys who smiled in that dopey way that displayed their innocence but indicated their wicked designs at the same time. Not boys with long, skinny picks for legs. Not boys who passed nutmegs like popcorn. Not boys like Dele. Never boys like Dele.

 

 

“Are you seeing this?” Kyle asked, stretching his arm behind his shoulders.

Dele and Eric were wrestling on the pitch like a litter of needy kittens. One moment, Eric was holding down Dele’s arms on either side of his head, the next moment Dele flipped him over and began tickling him giddy, then Eric was on top again and so it continued. The boys were jogging and playing around them but nobody seemed to particularly notice or care about the pair’s light-hearted tousling. Not that this was anything out of ordinary; Dele and Eric had amassed a reputation for not only their banter but their inevitable physical teasing, from the slaps to the hair pulls to the unfettered wrestling, as Kyle was witnessing at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” replied Jan, stretching his knee beside.

“I don’t know how long can these boys keep up with this?”

“Keep up with what?” asked Harry, who had appeared above Jan, jogging in place. “It’s just harmless,”

“Of course it’s _harmless_ , but...doesn’t this seem a bit like...flirting to you?”

Harry glanced at them and turned back, chuckling. “It’s adorable, for sure...but c’mon Walks, they’re as straight as logs,”

Kyle shrugged. “They seem just a bit close to me,”

“Relax, we’re all close to each other,” Jan said. “It won’t be the end of the world if someone’s gay, but not them, I think. You’ve seen Dele’s girlfriend, haven’t you?”

“Don’t ya think she’s too hot for him?” he pointed out. “Like, way out of his league,”

Harry laughed. “Don’t let him hear that,” Jan extended his arm toward Harry, who lifted him to his feet. “Now get up. Who are we to waste our time here?”

 

Later in the afternoon, as they were getting lunch in the dining room, Dele trailed Harry and followed him to the tables, trays in tow. “Mate, I got to ask you something,” he said quietly, looking around to check if anyone could hear them.

Harry wrinkled his forehead but calmly sat down with Dele at one of the smaller tables by the corner. He wasn’t so much alarmed but a little confused as to the clandestine nature of this conversation. If nothing else, Dele was always reliably cheerful for most occasions.

“What’s up?”

Dele lowered his head. “I don’t know what to get Eric,”

Harry was a bit thrown off by the question and flipped through his memory to recall what on earth Dele could be referring to before he realized that Eric’s birthday was coming up. He grinned, “How hard can it be? You must know what he likes,”

“I do, but...” he held his breath. “He can totally buy a watch or shoes on his own. I want to give him something...different,”

Pores of dread had already speckled his face, as he drew his lips inward, his mouth rounding into a scowl. Even though it was such an innocuous situation, Harry could read the signs of distress on Dele. “What about a concert ticket or something?” “I dunno...mate,” said Dele unsurely. “It’s just...he’s my best mate and I don’t just want him to be...you know, disappointed,”

“Well, you could try making him something,”

Dele’s eyes shifted upwards and he contemplated upon Harry’s genuine suggestion. “You think that’d work?”

“It’s worth a shot. It’d be different, it’d be fun...it’d be something he can’t buy at some high-end store,”

“Sounds good,” said Dele, his face brightening up. He picked up his tray and jogged to the table at which Eric and Mousa were having a laugh. He flicked at Eric’s ear, eliciting a moan before squeezing a chair between his two teammates. His face glimmered like a trinket of stars across a clear sky, his hand brushing over one body part of Eric or the other, the shoulders, the hands, the heads, the cheeks. He was restless. He was exhilarated. He was rocketing through the universe.  

Harry stirred his soup, shaking his head quietly. As it turned out, he needed to be hit in the head before he figured this deal out.

 

The next morning, all the players, save for two, were called to the changing room. Their drowsy faces and droopy eyes conveyed their disposition: sleepy, annoyed and utterly confused as to why they were summoned on this early Wednesday morning.

“Now I know you boys aren’t the most pleased to be here this morning but...” Harry began.

“Just get to it, H,” demanded Christian expectantly.

“Okay,” Harry took a moment to configure how he was going to bring up this issue. Was it best to build and set the scene or just swallow his uneasiness and get on with it? He chose the latter. “I believe....Eric and Dele like each other,”

“You git I fucking told ya!” Kyle slapped his hands together in self-satisfaction as all the heads in the gathering turned to him on the right.

“Why is this surprise?” asked Sonny. “I thought everyone know,”

“I think everyone knows but Dele and Eric,” said Danny. “Those two may be the biggest fools in the history of the world,”

“That’s exactly why I called you here. I think we should...” Harry began.

“Yes, that’s a brilliant idea, Harry!” Mousa intervened. “We have to get them to confess their feelings for each other!”

“Not quite, I was actually...”

“Only if you come to us sooner, H! We’d have agreed to your idea in no time,” said Toby.

The boys had now crowded him and were throwing around their own ideas. Harry shook his head in resignation, realizing that his original plan of telling Pochettino about this potential hotspot was not going to come to fruition. As the boys deliberated on a plan, Harry’s phone vibrated and he fished it out of his shorts to check the message. Dele had texted him: _Does this look alright or am I doing something wrong?_

Harry winced at the photo. It looked like a mud-coloured, frayed rag but thankfully, Dele included a follow-up message as to what the photo meant. _A hat for Eric_.

“Lads, we’ve got a problem,” Harry announced immediately. “Dele is knitting this piece of shit,” The boys circled him and took their turns inspecting the photo, their faces grimacing in disgust and confusion. “We can’t simply let this happen,”

 “What a shame,” Coco shook his head.

The boys began talking amongst each other about what the best solution for this unlikely situation was. Harry plodded to the corner and texted Dele. _Might wanna rethink the cap?_ Harry lowered his head; he should have done better than to simply steer Dele into doing something that might not pay off. Thankfully, that’s when Mousa approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder assuredly. “H, Jan and I figured out a plan. We might need your help, though,”

Harry grinned. “Anything,”

 

Even Eric thought would rather be spending his twenty-third birthday with any of his siblings or friends or even cooking himself a roast chicken in his flat, he chose to tag alongside Harry to the shopping mall. Harry was looking to purchase a new pair of sunglasses and demanded that he have Eric present as second opinion, which was suspicious on its own, seeing as how frequently he lambasted Eric’s fashion choices.

Eric glanced at his phone screen for what seemed like the fortieth time within five minutes. “What’s the matter?” asked Harry, as they strolled through the mall.

“No, nothing,” said Eric, although he did not make the effort of seeming at ease. Last year, Dele had called him two minutes past midnight and they remained on the line for another two hours before their eyes gave away to sleep, their phones clutched to the ears. This year, he hadn’t received so much as a text from his best friend and though he claimed that birthdays were not as significant as they used to be, it would still be pleasant to have it acknowledged by Dele.

“Oh, alright. The deals here look good, don’t they?” Harry motioned at the clothing store as he halted by the entrance.

Eric shrugged, scanning the assortment of jackets they had hanging at the front. Harry sauntered inside and began flipping through the sweaters on sale. Eric followed idly. Even though he made nothing of his birthday most years, gorging on pizza and the NFL didn’t sound too bad right now. Before Eric could see what Harry had chosen at the corner, he spotted him tapping across his phone anxiously.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Oh,” Harry gulped. “Perfect. Why wouldn’t it?”

Eric raised his eyebrow.

“Trouble with the missus is all,” Harry informed uneasily, shoving his phone back into his pocket.  “Now is there anything you like here? My treat,” He ushered Eric along through the gaps around the racks.

Eric accepted his response because frankly, he couldn’t be bothered enough to launch an investigation. Harry bought a few sweaters for himself and a pair of white sneakers for Eric. As they exited the store with bags in haul, Eric said to Harry, “Mate, I’m tired. I think I’m just gon...”

“No! You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Um, because, um...” Harry stammered. “I want to talk to you about something,”

Eric eyed him curiously. “What about?”

“Um, some personal stuff. Do you wanna get a few milkshakes?”

Eric would rather be doing anything else. He would rather settle down in his sofa, Dele by his side, and watch a film or two. He would rather scarf down a couple of boxes of Chinese food and laugh at Dele for chewing loudly. He would rather beat Dele at a game of foosball. He would rather show off his dance moves to Dele and challenge him to replicate them. He would rather be nutmegged by Dele on the pitch.

Once they found a table in the food court, a couple of families lined up to get their pictures taken with Harry. Eric obliged and became the official photographer for the next five minutes. Afterwards, Harry fetched them a couple of milkshakes and Eric drank his quietly.

Harry slurped loudly and turned to Eric gravely. “What’s been bothering you, mate?”

Eric grimaced and shrugged. “What?”

Harry lowered his voice. “I’m your friend, Dier. I notice when something’s up,”

“I wish I could tell you but...” Eric laughed at the absurdity of this conversation. He was, of course, a bit underwhelmed to be spending his birthday like this but his mood was in no way as dour as Harry’s tone suggested.

“Something to do with Dele?” asked Harry.

Eric paused. Well, when he put it like that. Eric placed his hands on the table and nibbled his lip. “Maybe...”

Eric leaned forward, as if to convey to Eric that he was prepared to be the listener. Eric cleared his throat. “You know...doesn’t it worry you that all the clubs are gunning for him?”

Harry sighed thoughtfully before replying. “But that’s natural. It comes with the good performances. He’s a young, thriving player that came out of nowhere; obvious people want to snatch that up for themselves. I was right here, a couple of years ago,”

“But you’re different. You came through the academy, you’re our only striker and you’ve got a family here. Dele...he’s got no attachment here,”

“You’ve got to be positive,” Harry advised. “We all want him here, but we’ve also got to have trust in ourselves,”

Eric seemingly agreed, even though he would be dissatisfied with the situation regardless. Harry tried to soothe him as well as he could under the circumstances, but only Dele’s level-headed assurance would do the trick. They continued chatting for twenty more minutes before Eric decided he’d had enough for the day and simply wished to be home. Just as they were about to leave, Eric felt his phone vibrate. It seemed as Harry had too, seeing how he pulled out his phone too.

_Important meeting about Poch. Pls come to the training ground._

The text was from Hugo. Harry’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “What could it be?” he said worriedly.

Eric wrinkled his forehead; the notification, though certainly unexpected, was not concerning to him. They stood up, zipped their jackets and Eric offered to drive. During the ride, Harry kept babbling anxious. “Do you think he’s sick? Poch, I mean. Or do you think he was caught doing something...inappropriate?”

Eric rolled his eyes but said nothing. Thankfully, Harry eventually got the hint and stopped pestering Eric on the nature of this meeting. However, as soon as they parked, Harry assumed a strange sort of disposition. He hesitated in getting out of the vehicle and snapped his phone out. He told Eric that he had to make a call to his girlfriend, so Eric should go ahead. Eric shrugged but could not decipher the shiftiness on display here. He lumbered through the dark and empty building and wondered where the boys were gathered. He was about to text Hugo when he touched something resembling a lantern floating in the distance. “Are you twats tryna scare me now?”

Nevertheless, he approached the lantern and realized that it was hovering away from him, leading him down the building and into the arena. He shook his head and was convinced that someone was launching an incredibly shoddy, stupid prank on him. Walks, most likely. He knew the lantern would probably lead him to a pool of sticky sauce or something but he went along anyways.

Once he stepped into the stadium, the lantern guide was revealed to be Danny, who quickly sprinted back into the building. Eric called him out but his attention was snatched by a sudden influx of sound. He looked up into the giant screen at the top and there flashed a video in which people were speaking into the camera.

“Eric, he might not have a fashion sense but his deep, blue eyes make up for it,” Kyle said. Consequently, a number of Spurs players took their moment to spout a few words about Eric.

**Sonny: Eric is a fun guy. Sometimes joke not funny but he always try.**

**Jan: I like having Toby by my side but he don’t shout like Eric does. So effective, so powerful. Happy Birthday mate**

**Hugo: I think Eric is smart, capable, highly technical and a lovely man. Always puts his teammates first and never stops wanting to learn.**

**Harry: Well, he’s one of my best mates and I think...he works really hard. As a person, he is respectful, kind and understanding.**

By the end of the series, Eric couldn’t help but smile whole-heartedly. But before he could digest the emotion unravelled by the clip, the screen switched to a montage of Eric’s skills on the pitch and several commentators chiming in with their exaggerated glee. Once this clip ended, the lights in the stadium began lighting up, one by one. He gazed at the domino-style wave of lights flaring into life. He couldn’t believe any of this; his skin was ambushed by a breakout of goosebumps.

The Chainsmokers’ ‘Paris’ began playing and Eric cut into his lip, lying in terrifying anticipation of what else was heading his way on this already-memorable night. The tap of a mic sounded and he spotted a silhouette across the pitch. He squinted and grinned at the figure drifting towards him.

“I know this is a bit unexpected...” Dele said. Eric hadn’t confirmed it was him visually but the voice was unquestionably his, the cute, cocky and relentless cheeky tone echoing through. “And you might not like surprises but I had to make an effort anyways. Eric Dier, you aren’t the easiest person to impress,”

“But I will always try. Nothing moves my spirit as seeing you smile. Seeing you laugh makes my day. I never thought I’d find such a friend within a year of being at this club, much less within a week but now I thank my lucky stars that I did. You’re always there for me, after the red cards and the tackles and the fights and the disappointing games,”

Dele was getting bigger and bigger as he was getting closer. Eric was crushing down on his lip expectantly.

“And I only hope that I can repay the favour over the years. I want to be there for you, today, tomorrow, the rest of our lives,”

His tears were barely restrained by the time Dele was in view. Dele kept strolling till he was within inches away from Eric’s face. “Happy Birthday, Dier,” he whispered into the mic.

Eric chuckled and tossed the mic away from Dele’s hands. He embraced Dele for a long time, his actions conveying the emotions that wouldn’t otherwise be translated into words. Once he pulled away, he stared into Dele’s deep, dark eyes. “You knob!”

“A bit too much?”

“It was perfect,”

Eric didn’t know what exactly took over him but for once in his life, he decided to let his instincts overwhelm him. He lunged forward and kissed Dele. It was a peck, soft and sweet and he immediately drew away to skim Dele’s reaction. His face barely changed but slowly a grin spread across his lips. “Did you just...”

“Sorry, was that wrong?” Eric asked nervously. “This whole thing is just so beautiful and romantic and...I thought you liked me, so...”

Dele comforted him by placing both his palms against Eric’s shoulders. “No, it’s alright,” he said emphatically. “I do like you,”

And with that, Dele returned the gesture by diving into a longer, deeper, slower kiss with Eric. And all the butterflies fluttered, the fireworks spluttered and Eric couldn’t have had a better birthday.

 

“Are you crying?” asked Jan in disbelief.

Harry dabbed the tear away and shook his head. “No, no...it’s just a bit steamy in here,”

“Shut up, you’re crying,” insisted Mousa but the funny thing was that his face was lined with tears stains as well. “It’s not every day you can create love stories,”

Harry laughed. “I suppose so,”

They watched Dele and Eric for a few more minutes before walking down the tunnel. Mousa was right; it’s not every day that they witnessed moments like this. The kind that shakes a team. The kind that lift a team. The kind that builds a team. As a matter of a fact, the kind that makes a team what they are.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave prompts in the comments if you like my writing style and want me to explore other aspects of this relationship. I'm open to doing anything! Furthermore, find me on Tumblr: http://sodetectivegalaxy.tumblr if you want to talk football, this particular ship or anything in general. I love writing and hope to continue!


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